The Jungle Theory
by Chocolate-Flavored Strawberry
Summary: AU. Living with the regret of not being able to save a person she cared much about, Emma worked hard to forget memories and make a name for herself. She left everything behind; her identity, her life, her son. But nothing stays hidden forever, and she soon finds her past catching up to her. With the help of a devilishly handsome "friend", she sees that secrets never meant silence.
1. Prologue

**The Jungle Theory**

Most people grieve for lost loved ones because of emotion. Because they feel love for the other person. Because they shared moments and memories together. Because they'll miss that person when they're gone.

Unfortunately, that's not the case for me. I loved a person that I didn't even know. I cried for someone I saw for two seconds before he disappeared. I missed someone I never cared for.

I guess it's a little too late to think of what could've been. What could've happened if I'd stopped and said hi or if I'd given him my number. Would he have jumped? Would he have gone out with me? Would he have changed his mind and turned around?

I, for one, was never really into angst or drama, but seeing someone you loved die within seconds that you'd met him can really change your perspective on things. Sometimes, you can't help but feel responsible for someone else's life.

So when they asked me what my relation to the victim was, I told them I had no relation to him. I did not know who he was or where he came from. I had no idea why he jumped or what had happened. I told them I cried because I loved him, and they looked at me strangely. I guess if I were in their shoes, I would, too. They left me alone after that.

I came home to my apartment that night crying. I had classes the morning after but I could care less. I cried and cried and when I woke up, it was two o'clock in the afternoon. I looked horrible. My eyes were swelling and my cheeks were puffed and red. I didn't go to class that day. I was too miserable. I didn't eat or left my bed either. I curled up under my blanket and thought about the man that jumped. I will never understand why he did that. And I guess I'll never know.

The morning after that, the police came to my apartment. I found out he was a criminal. He was convicted of theft and drug abuse. His name was Neal Cassidy. It was the most beautiful name I had ever heard. They asked me questions about him again and like yesterday, I told them I didn't know anything and they left me alone.

Three days later, I looked him up. I went to the city hall and check the public records for him. There were a lot of blank squares. He was an orphan, like me. He came to the country when he was fourteen and was put in the system. He was adopted by a family, the Darlings, but he ran away not long after. He was taken in by an orphanage for boys and by the age of eighteen, he started to tarnish his clean criminal record. He stole, and did a lot of illegal stuff. I can't really say much since even I wasn't completely innocent in that department.

After that, I moved on. I let go of anything that had happened that week. Eventually, 'Neal Cassidy' was just a name for me. A name that I forced myself to forget. For eleven years, I worked hard as a bail bonds-person. I was content with my life. No qualms, no disruption. But when I opened the door on my twenty-eighth birthday, it wasn't the pizza guy standing in front of me. It was a little boy. And the worst part was, I knew exactly who he was.

"Mom?"

* * *

**Hello, OUAT community! This is my very first fic in this fandom, so please forgive me if it isn't particularly in sync with all the other stories. Just know that this _is_ a Captain Swan fic (God knows how much I fangirl-ed over the last episode of season three). Captain will be appearing soon. Unfortunately, this story won't be containing any magical properties. Sorry to disappoint. Everybody is out there somewhere. They just haven't come in yet. Henry is still completely important.**

**Sorry if Emma seemed a bit out of character at the beginning. I mean, she was just eighteen. Fresh out of the foster care system. She was still too fragile and child-like.**

**Anywho, please leave a review down below and tell me what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 1

**The Jungle Theory**

Emma opened the lights to her empty apartment, tired and miserable. She placed the white plastic bag she was holding on her kitchen counter. She had just finished a job that required running and chasing in a tight dress and four inch heels, so naturally, her feet were killing her and her dress was sticking uncomfortably to her skin because of the cold sweat on her back.

She took off her coat and brought out the contents of the plastic bag, a box with the seal 'Marjorie's Bakery'. She opened it and put a candle on the small vanilla cupcake. She lit it up and closed her eyes.

_'Please. Just this once, please don't let me be alone on my birthday.'_ Then she blew.

At that moment, she heard a knock on the door. She grabbed her purse, expecting the Chinese food delivery guy to be standing in front of her, but with wallet in hand, she saw that it wasn't the delivery guy. It was a little boy. A little boy whose eyes she knew far too well.

"Mom?"

"Sorry, kid, but I'm not your mom." Emma answered, feeling her throat dry as she blocked his passage with her arm.

"No... you are Emma Swan, right?" He asked.

"Yeah...?"

"I'm Henry. Ten, well eleven, years ago, you gave a baby up for adoption, correct? That was me." He said knowingly.

"What?" Henry took the opportunity to casually slip under her arm.

"Nice place."

"Okay, hold up. I don't have a kid. Where are your parents?" She asked demandingly as she pulled him back.

Henry ignored her and continued walking around her apartment, dropping his coat on her couch.

"Hey! Don't ignore me. I'm calling the cops." She threatened.

"I'll tell them you kidnapped me." He answered simply as he threw himself on the white velvet couch.

"And your word against mine? I don't think so, kid." She retorted, taking her phone. As she dialed, she felt Henry tense with each push of a button.

"Wait! Please don't. I just wanted to get to know you." He pleaded.

Emma saw the crest-fallen look on his face and felt guilt swell up in her chest. This was her fault. She could have raised him if she wanted to, but she knew that he could never be who he _could_ be if he stayed with her.

She let out a sigh.

"Okay, but, it's like nine o'clock. Don't you have school or something?"

Henry smiled widely. "It's Friday."

"Don't your parents mind that you're here?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Parent, and she won't mind. As far as she knows, I'm at a sleepover at my friend Caleb's." He answered.

"Smart kid." She mumbled. "Well, I still need to call your mother. Give me your phone."

"No! She can't know I'm here." He exclaimed.

"So what, kid? You're just going to casually come over her without her knowing? Give me your phone." Emma said sharply, holding her hand out.

Henry took his phone from his bag, grumbling about how unfair it was. Emma took it and found the contact under 'Mom' and called her.

"Henry?" She heard over the line.

"Yeah, no. This is Emma Swan, Henry's birth mother. Somehow he got a hold of my address and is here on my living room right now." Emma said.

"What?! Where are you?" The woman over the phone yelled.

"Um..." Emma told her her address.

"I'll be right over. Tell Henry he's dead when I get there." Then the line went dead.

Emma handed the phone back to Henry then decided to put her birthday cupcake away.

"Well, kid, you're dead." She said.

"Augh." Henry groaned as he slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead.

"So, where exactly are you from?" Emma asked, deciding against putting the cake in the fridge, and instead taking a large bite.

"Upstate. We used to live in a town in Maine. My mom used to be mayor but when her term ended, we moved to New York." Henry answered after a slight pause.

"Oh..." Emma replied, sucking on the single candle that was covered in frosting.

Minutes later, an old woman, probably in her late fifties, clad in red and black arrived. She looked like she was on the verge of tears and hugged Henry tightly while scolding him in a hush tone as if to create a wall of privacy from Emma.

"You don't ever do this again, okay? I was so worried." Henry's mother reprimanded.

Emma watched the exchange and felt happy for her son. He was lucky enough to find a home that loved him and gave him everything she never could; to have the childhood she never had.

"I'm fine, Mom. Emma, please help me. Can't breathe." He pleaded mockingly.

At the name, his mother let go and turned to Emma. She wiped away any stray tears and held out a hand.

"Regina Mills, I'm Henry's mother."

"Emma Swan." She answered shaking the hand.

"Well, Miss Swan, thank you for tolerating _this_ little boy. We'll be taking our leave now." Regina said as she took Henry's hand and led him out the apartment.

"Wait! Mom, please. Emma tell her that you want to see me again tomorrow, please!" He begged as he struggled in his adoptive mother's arms.

"I-uh-" Emma fumbled.

"Mom, I just want to get to know her. Please, Mom!"

"Regina-"

"No. Henry, we're going home."

And Emma didn't see them for the rest of the night.

* * *

"So, Swan, what happened to make you so..." Killian gestured to all of her.

Emma took another shot of whatever the barmaid, Ruby, gave her.

"Not now, Jones." She said coldly.

Killian raised his hands (well, hand) in mock surrender. Emma continued drinking shot after shot. He sat next to her and made sure no man and his filthy hands touched her. Although, he was rather amused at the sight of a 'cracked' Emma Swan. She was usually so calm and collected (not to mention sarcastic and snarky). And if this were a normal day, she would have had rejected him by now.

"C'mon, Swan. Tell good ol' Killian what's botherin' you." He persuaded.

"My son came by to visit tonight." She slurred angrily as she downed another drink.

Killian's eyebrows shot up. She had a son. He was certainly not expecting this.

"I beg your pardon? You have a son?" He asked, handing her a tissue when the rim of the glass missed her mouth and spilled all over her lap.

"I was never supposed to see him again, y'know." She grabbed the tissue and wiped the spilled contents sloppily, all the while trying to drink another glass. "He was supposed to be adopted by a happy family. He wasn't supposed to come back to me. He wasn't supposed to know who I was. It just..." She was cut-off by her own snores.

Killian chuckled at his companion as he drank his beer. He didn't know what exactly she'd been stressing about, but one thing's for sure: Emma Swan was hell of a woman. He finished up then carried Emma over his shoulder.

_'The lengths I go for this woman. Tsk.'_ He thought.

"Your tab tonight, Killian?" He heard Ruby ask as he exited the bar.

"Yeah." He answered with a wave

He buckled her up in the front seat of his car then drove her to her apartment.

He knew where she lived because that was how they met. Her car had broken down. It was in the middle of winter and the only establishment that was open was Granny's, the bar they usually drank at. She looked beautiful. Her hair was wet from the snow and it had clung to the sides of her face, her cheeks were tinted red and her eyes had bags under them as she stressed over her broken car. Just simply gorgeous. Naturally, Killian took that opportunity to flirt with her, and naturally, she rejected him, wanting only to go home. Intrigued, Killian offered her a ride. It was weird. She was one of the only few women that declined his advances. She had agreed, in desperation, but not without warning him that she was well-skilled in mix-martial arts and went boxing every other weekend. He laughed and drove her to her apartment.

During the ride, she had asked him about his hand. And he told her the story. He was in the military. The Navy to be specific. He was born near the beach in the U.S. but he and his mother moved to Ireland when he was just a boy after his father and older brother died while serving. He came back when he turned eighteen and joined the Navy. He lost it during an attack while he was keeping guard of a special sound amplifier. It was horrible, of course, but he had grown accustomed to living as a one-hand wonder. They called him 'Captain Hook' back then.

Emma nodded then remained silent for the rest of the ride. He asked for a date as thanks when he dropped her off. She reluctantly agreed, not wanting to feel indebted to him. Long story-short, the date did not end well with him ending up with a bloody nose and her with a ripped dress, but they managed to remain friends. Well, if you could equate their relationship, of him flirting with her and drinking the occasional (yeah, "occasional") pint of beer, to 'friends'.

"Captain Hook." Emma said, half-conscious while laughing humorlessly.

Killian turned to look at her and saw that she had removed her jacket and he could get a fair view of her cleavage. He remained stoic and covered her again with her red leather jacket. He respected her well enough to know their boundaries. Besides, she wouldn't make a snide remark about his advances. Where was the fun in that?

"Y'know, I always _loved_ Peter Pan when I was a kid." She said, laughing. "He was my favorite. I would always pretend I was Wendy and wish he would take me to Neverland so I didn't have to deal with all those monsters that called themselves _parents_."

He remained silent and listened to Emma's drunken stupor. Whenever she got so drunk (which was not often, mind you), she would start telling him stories of when she was younger and how horrible it had been to grow up in the homes she was sent to. How heart broken she felt whenever she wasn't picked when families came by to adopt.

"Sister Frannie always told me that she would miss me a lot if I ever went to Neverland," She laughed again. "Can't say much after how fast she kicked me out when I turned eighteen."

He had a terrible childhood growing up without a father and his older brother. He was constantly reminded of how they died by the stub on his arm. But, Emma's was a whole different level. At least he knew he still had his mother that loved him without a doubt.

"You know what?" She asked loudly. "My life is a lot like Tarzan's, you know. Only besides the fact he was lucky enough to be raised by a bunch of monkeys... Wait, I guess we really _are_ that similar." She mused before laughing hysterically.

"Swan," Killian started.

"Swan," She giggled. "I picked the last name Swan when I was ten. I always thought it was pretty. It kind of suits me, right? I would always pretend I was the princess in Swan Lake whenever Wendy got boring. Swan. Swanny, Swan, Swan. You always call me that, don't you, Jones?"

"It's only because you refuse to call me by my name." He chuckled lightly.

She laughed loudly. "Well, I guess that's true."

Then a pause followed.

"I had to give him up, y'know. I wanted to have him, to raise him." She mumbled as she buried her face on her jacket. "I wanted to give him his best chance. I was just a stupid eighteen-year-old. I didn't have anything. I couldn't give him anything."

Killian fell into silence again.

"I loved that little boy with all my heart. I never got to say goodbye. I was too scared that I would change my mind. He was the only thing I had left of-" She choked out.

She suddenly burst into quiet sobs. Killian pulled over in front of her apartment complex and pulled her into a hug.

"Have-Have I ever told you that you remind me so much of that girl from The Ring?" She laughed through her hiccups as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "You should smile a lot more, huh, Captain?"

He smiled and kissed her forehead. He got out of the car and led Emma to the entrance, before going back to his car.

"Aren't you gonna help me get up, Captain? I've got a half-eaten birthday cupcake in my fridge." She teased.

"I doubt you'd appreciate me in your apartment once you're sober. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, Killian turned around. "Happy birthday, Swan. God knows how much you deserve it."

He got into his car and went back to the pub, drinking just as much as Emma had and ended up bedding a rather strange, petite blonde woman that introduced herself as Tinkerbell.

* * *

Emma awoke the next day with her head throbbing, and her mouth as dry as the Sahara desert. She groaned as she sat up. She was still wearing the same clothes she'd worn to Granny's after that kid (what was his name? Henry?) came by. Her jeans reeked of tequila and sweat. _She_ reeked of tequila and sweat.

She remembered Jones, and drinking way too much, and crying. What happened last night?

She got up and took aspirin tablets to help ease her head. As she did so, she heard her home phone ring and decided to let the answering machine take it for her.

"Emma, it's me Henry. My mom told me we could hang out at Central Park today. Please come. Let's meet at around two, okay? See you!" Emma checked the clock and her eyebrows furrowed together as she saw that she had only an hour to sober up, get dressed and drive. And the last one would probably be impossible considering she left her car in the parking lot at Granny's. Should she go? She knew that it was her estranged son that she hadn't seen since the day of his birth, but she didn't owe anyone anything.

...

Who was she kidding? She had to at least give the boy a chance to spend even the smallest amount of time with his biological mother, even if she had to do it with half a heart.

She sighed. She debated whether or not to call for Jones for help but only God knows if he'll help her or distract her. Plus he already did so much for her last night. She couldn't possibly bring herself to ask for another favor. Which only leaves her one choice: public transportation.

Not that it was the most horrible thing in the world, she just didn't like the idea of the possibility of sitting next to some creep that hadn't showered in days as he watched her every move throughout the duration of the fifteen-minute ride to a certain destination near the empire state building which did NOT involve a minor theft of candy bars at a drugstore (NOT based on real-life occurrences).

She sighed for what seemed like the millionth time and began undressing to take a shower.

* * *

**Hello. It's me again. Sorry if it seemed a bit short. I'm actually moving to California soon, so that's exciting. It's just a little bit more hectic since I have absolutely never been outside the Philippines before, and there's a really big possibility that I'm gonna be ridin' the plane by myself (which is kind of scary if you ask me). So, to the people in Paso Robles and Atascadero, I'll see you soon. It'll be a HUGE adjustment from the big city life I'm used to. No traffic, no noise, no woman screaming at 3 AM... Sigh...**

**Anyway, you should know that I usually just squeeze out all the inspiration inside me and onto a chapter then move on to the next and repeat. Well, at least that's what I usually do anyways. I do have the continuation of the next chapter with me. I just thought it would be appropriate to leave you at that since it seemed to be going too fast for my liking. **

**I don't really like how the first scene went :(. I think it was too out there. Had to rewrite it but still didn't turn out the way I'd hoped. Oh yeah, I was wondering whether or not to add smut. What do you think? Lemon? Lime? Citrus-y? Or just pure cotton candy fluff?**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed! And thanks to those who reviewed, followed and favorite-d in the previous chapter. I appreciate it and I love you (no we're not going too fast. This relationship _will_ work)!**

**Leave a review and tell me what you think of Captain. Was he too bleh or was he yeah? (Damn, I'm pretty good at this rhyming stuff)**

**Later!**


	3. Chapter 2

**The Jungle Theory**

_"Class, remember to pass your homework from yesterday, alright?" Perky Mrs. Parker reminded as the loud ringing of the bell echoed throughout the school._

_Emma looked up from the mindless doodles on her composition notebook. They were tasked to draw up a family tree with the branches and all that. They were given the freedom to choose whatever design they chose to pursue, but that's not Emma's problem. You see, normally, a kid would have no problem writing up their parents' and grandparents' and siblings' names on a piece of paper, but she isn't exactly normal. So what she did was draw the most realistic tree she's ever drawn and wrote her name in the trunk in big, bold, cursive letters. Mrs. Parker would most likely not accept it noting how even though she was a happy person, she could be quite a prick and sometimes didn't understand the concept of boundaries._

_Everybody had stood up and gave their homework over to the teacher but Emma did her best to prolong the time spent to give her paper. It was a horrible idea, really. It was raining hard outside and the only way she could get to her latest "home" was to go by foot, and she wasn't exactly keen on being scolded by her foster mom because she'd gotten the floors wet._

_"Emma?" Mrs. Parker called._

_Emma stood up quickly as soon as she heard her name. She walked briskly towards her teacher and handed it over before preparing to go for a sprint. And she was so close, too. She was already half-way through the door when her name was called again._

_"Emma, wait."_

_She froze._

_"Come back here please."_

_She turned around and walked sullenly with her head down._

_"Emma, what is this?" Mrs. Parker asked._

_"My homework, Mrs. Parker." She answered._

_"Emma, I don't think you quite understand this project. I asked you to make a family tree. This isn't exactly it."_

_"Mrs. Parker, I'm an orphan. I get transferred from foster home to foster home. Do you really think I have an idea on who my parents are, let alone my grandparents?" Emma asked, raising her voice slightly in irritation._

_"It is completely understandable that you feel that way, but this is just impossible. You have to have at least one person you treat as family. It could be a foster mom you had, or a nun from an orphanage. C'mon, Emma, surely this isn't your entire **family** tree." Mrs. Parker reasoned, emphasizing the word 'family'._

_Emma, ready to burst out in anger, decided to just nod and walk out of the classroom as quick as she should then ran to the greenhouse at the back of the school, the only place she knew no one was ever interested in._

* * *

"So, where're you from?" Henry asked as he took a bite from his crepe.

"I don't know. I was found as a baby in Phoenix." She answered, biting her own.

The drive to the park was relatively quiet, apart from an old woman that took forever to cross the street. It was fairly sunny. Slightly colder than the day before as winter grows nearer. It was strange having somewhere to go that wasn't related to her job, but she guessed she'll have to get used to it, knowing that her son wanted to spend time with her.

The pair walked in silence as they passed fallen leaves and still waters. Henry had arrived a good five minutes before she did, so she bought them crepes to make up for it, as minuscule measly five minutes was. They sat down on a cold metal bench that faced a pond where a few fishes swam. They'd been walking around the park for a good thirty minutes at most, talking about Henry's childhood and all the missing snippets Emma missed.

"What was my dad like?" He asked.

Emma had expected him to ask that dreaded question. She had prepared herself longer than any job she'd taken up. But still, that could not stop the nervousness rising fro the pit of her stomach.

"He was... normal, I guess. Not much to say." She answered dismissively.

"What was his job?" He asked.

"He was an... investigator, I think? He never really talked much about it." She lied.

Henry shot a skeptic look towards her. He knew she was lying through her teeth.

"What was his name?" He asked.

"You know what? I'm going to throw this away," She said, raising the paper container that once held her strawberry-kiwi crepe. "then we can talk somewhere a bit warmer."

And she did. She stood up quickly and threw the packaging away, slowing her pace as she returned. Henry remained oblivious as he waited for her to come back, with his crepe almost gone.

"C'mon, kid, there's a nice place nearby." She called out.

She'd brought him to Granny's. It doubled as a resto/coffee house in the morning and turns into a bar at five o'clock in the afternoon. It was the only place she could feel comfortable enough, what with Henry's questions about his father and the nagging voice in her mind that demanded she tell the truth.

They walked silently with only the crunching of the leaves on their feet, the whooshing of the cars that passed by, and the buzzing of the pedestrians could be heard. They reached Granny's and noticed they were the only two customers there besides a woman with short black hair with silver streaks that sat in the bar stool, drinking a cup of tea with biscuits on her side, all the while texting someone on her phone with a nervous expression on her face.

They sat in a booth in the middle section of the shop. Ruby came by to take their orders, hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon for two, and they resumed talking.

"So, what's your mom like?" Emma asked, trying her best to evade Henry's questions about his father.

"She's okay. But she's really scary like the evil queen from Snow White." He answered.

Emma pondered over his unusual comparison for a few milliseconds before Ruby arrived with their orders.

"Thanks, Ruby," She said. Ruby nodded her head in reply and returned behind the counter, doing whatever she was doing before they had arrived.

"Look, the reason that I wanted to get to know you today is because I think my mom is planning on getting married." He murmured, drinking his hot chocolate.

"Isn't that a good thing?" She asked, slightly offended for an reason unknown even to herself.

"Yeah, well, the guy has a kid a lot younger than me, about six, I think? Anyway, I know my mom. Even if she's all professional on the outside, she's a big softie for kids. She'll want to be a good mom for the kid." He answered.

"Ah, I see. You're jealous of your soon-to-be step-brother." Emma replied.

"Am not!" He defended, raising his voice.

"Sure." She said, tasting the cinnamon-covered whipped cream with her finger.

"Emma..." He whined.

At the sound of her name, the lady sitting at the counter spun around and looked at them with wide eyes. Emma noticed this and was quite perplexed.

"Um, can I help you?" She asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. It's just..." She dragged on. "My name is Mary Margaret Blanchard. My daughter... her name was Emma." She explained with a sad smile.

"Oh, um, alright." She said, unsure of what to say.

"Was?" Henry questioned.

Emma's eyes widened. "Henry."

"No, no, it's okay. We lost her in a fire when she was just an infant. My husband and I never really got over it. I'm sorry, I'm ranting. I'll leave you alone now." Mary Margaret said, slightly embarrassed.

"No, it's alright." Henry eased.

"Thank you, um...?"

"Henry, and this is my birth mother, Emma." He introduced, hopping out of the booth and coming closer to Mary Margaret.

"How lovely. How old are you, dear?"

"I'm eleven. Emma's seventy-eight." Henry joked.

"Am not! I'm only twenty-nine." Emma defended.

Mary Margaret couldn't suppress a light sound of laughter. "You two must be really close. It's quite refreshing to see."

Emma felt a surge of guilt in her stomach and remained quiet. Henry, however, looked excited to engage in conversation with his new friend. Exactly the opposite of his father. At this thought, Emma shook her head slightly. Now's not the time to think of unwanted memories.

"She would've been just as old as you if she'd made it." Mary Margaret sighed.

"I'm sure she would've been really nice." Henry piped.

"Thank you, but I have to go now." Mary Margaret said, leaving the cafe. "It was wonderful meeting you both."

"Bye!"

"Henry, you shouldn't talk to strangers just like that." Emma said.

"But she was just a poor old lady. What could she have done?"

"I don't know. It's just... I work as an investigator of sorts, and I deal with a lot of different people every time - bad people. And I'm sure your mother wouldn't really appreciate getting you kidnapped after just two hours of being with me."

"Okay, fine. I have to go soon anyway. Robin wants to have a 'family dinner' tonight at this fancy restaurant really far from here." He moped.

"It's not going to be _that _bad."

"Trust me, it will. It's like a thousand miles away from here." He said.

Emma sighed. She was going nowhere with this boy.

"Okay, whatever you think. Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?" She asked.

"Nah, it's cool."

And they spent the rest of their time drinking three more cups of hot chocolate (each), and talking about random things like Henry's dreams, Henry's life, Henry's schooling. Somehow, she had managed to direct the conversation to Henry, purposely leaving out anything remotely related to herself, even though that was the sole purpose of their outing; to get to know one another.

Henry was picked up by his mother who was sporting a fancy updo and what seemed like a long sleeved black dress, but Emma couldn't be too sure since the woman never stepped out of the car.

Emma should've left after Henry had, but she couldn't find it in herself to move. Everything was changing so rapidly. Just yesterday, she was living a child-free life, albeit a slightly lonely life, doing the thing she loved most with the occasional company of Ruby or Jones. Now, she had a son that apparently once lived in a sleepy town called 'Storeybrooke' (seriously, what sort of ridiculous name was that?) and normally ate blueberry bagels for breakfast on weekdays and banana bread on weekends. The way he spoke so happily was the main reason Emma had convinced herself she'd done the right thing. If Henry had stayed with her, he wouldn't be able to go to the fancy private school he went to, or be able to eat all the snacks he wanted because of the extensive and well-stocked cupboards of the Mills household. He would've ended up being exactly like her; a crook, a thief.

And so, she stayed in that booth, until the cafe closed and the bar opened, watching familiar yet unknown faces come in and filling the quaint silence with rowdy laughter and enthusiastic story telling with one another, and probably at around seven, Killian Jones entered, slightly surprised that Emma had arrived before him. He slipped into the seat in front of her, which received no response, and ordered beer for both of them.

"What are you doing here so early, Miss Swan?" He asked.

"... Just some stuff that finished early." She lied.

Killian's eyebrow shot up at this but he remained silent about the subject, sensing it's sensitivity. When their drinks arrived, Emma wasted no time chugging the whole glass in a matter of a minute and a half, and ordered two more glasses.

"Um, I still haven't finished mine." Killian pointed out.

"Who says it's for you?"

The waitress, who only works night shifts and whose name Emma couldn't remember no matter how many times they've spoken, arrived and gave Emma her beer. Emma finished those two quickly as well.

"Care to share your wonderful day?"

"Nothing happened." Emma replied, ordering another two glasses of beer.

"Sure, because every time you get drink this much, it's always because your day's been painfully boring." Killian said sarcastically.

"Not in the mood, Jones."

"Of course." He muttered, taking a sip of his own poison.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma asked, suddenly offended in her more than tipsy state.

"Nothing to be concerned about. And I think you had just about enough," He said, taking her half-empty mug.

"Jones!" She growled.

Killian was not threatened at all. Instead, he drank the remaining contents of her cup and got out of the booth, and proceeding to pull her out. Emma, surprised of his actions, started struggling out of his grasp. He threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, much like he did the night before.

"This seems a bit déjà vu to me. Except you were much tolerable before. And unconscious." He said, tightening his hold on the thrashing drunk woman that was punching and kicking in all directions. "Ruby, put this one on my tab again tonight!" He called before leaving.

As he exited, Emma had found a way to finally slip out of his grasp. Her face was completely red, and her hair was disheveled. And suddenly, Killian felt another sense of déjà vu. She looked almost exactly as she did the first time he'd seen her. Ridiculously beautiful.

"Jones, what the hell?! I was still drinking my-" She was cut off.

By what, you may ask. Like most cheesy romance novels, Killian had kissed her. Really hard. And they both liked it.

But unlike most stories, the male lead doesn't get kneed in the balls and the woman doesn't pass out right next to the poor guy.

"Holy... shit." He groaned in pain.

Emma was sleeping soundly on the cold pavement, and Killian couldn't help but think, amongst all other thoughts, how quickly everything had gone tonight. One minute he was enjoying a (not really) pleasant conversation with a beautiful woman, the next kissing her, and then finally getting him infertile. O the romantics. Now he had to drive Emma home with an excruciatingly pair of balls, because of his god forsaken morals. Argh, it pays to be honorable. He can never catch a break with this woman. On some level, she reminded him of a jungle woman.

But for now, let the man writhe in pain.

* * *

_No one ever goes to the greenhouse. Only the gardener and a handful amount of lost first graders wandered towards this section of the school. That's why Emma liked it so much. She went there to read, or to do homework, and sometimes even to help tend the flowers, but now all she wanted to do was scream and shout and curse God for everything that had happened in her life. But, as soon as she got there, she found herself not being able to do anything but curl into a ball against a wall and cry._

_Why had this happened to her? Of all the people in the world, why did she have parents that didn't love her enough to actually keep her? Why did she have to waste twelve years worth of birthday wishes just hoping that her parents would come back and bring her home?_

_As a child, she could never understand why her friends had to go home by sundown, while she could do whatever she wanted, just not until ten, because that was when the cops patrolled the area. They had mothers and fathers pick them up after school and left her playing by herself on the swings. She would often spot families walking their dogs or having picnics, and she would wonder to herself why couldn't she have that. Did she do something bad? Was it because she had a horrible habit of biting her nails? Was it because she often forgot to make her bed?_

_No matter how much she tried not to think about it, all she could think of were possible reasons as to why her parents had left her. And as a six-year-old who had nothing, she would always think that she was unwanted. After all, it's always what her foster mom would say._

_'You were an accident! That's why your parents didn't want you. You ruined their lives!'. And Emma couldn't stop herself from thinking that maybe that was true._

_So, Emma cried, and the rain accompanied her. She wished that someone would come and get her, to tell her it was okay. But no one did. No one ever does. It was okay. She was used to it._

_Maybe if she stopped existing. Of course, this wasn't the first time Emma had thought doing such dark and harmful things to herself, and more than one occasion has she tried. But whenever she did, whenever she would face herself in front of the mirror with pills or a blade, she would see herself trembling. She loved herself a lot more than she loved anybody else. She could never do it._

_And it sucked._

_If there were only a button somewhere that is she pushed would make her stop existing. Just disappear from the face of the earth. No one would miss her. No one **could** miss her. If she were to just be found in the greenhouse the next morning by the gardener, he would only be left to wonder if she were a student or not and send her away. It was that easy._

_Eventually, the rain had stopped, and so had Emma. She had to go 'home' sooner or later, and if she chose the latter, it would be much more terrifying than the former. So she walked home, skipping puddles, and doing her best to stop the redness of her face. She had arrived and had gotten a loud scolding from her foster parents. She apologized and raced up to her room (which she shared with another girl much younger than she was). She changed and covered herself under her blanket._

_And repeating like a mantra, she thought, "Please give me something to live for."_

* * *

**Hi. I feel a little bit emotional with the last part. Haha... Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed. I made sure to make this a bit longer than the previous chapter.**

**What do you think of the flashbacks on the beginning and the end of the chapter? I thought I would do something similar to OUAT episodes with the flashbacks from the Enchanted Forest or something along those lines. If you like it, please feel free to follow, review, or fave (that is, if you want to read more).**

**Please leave a review on what you think of Emma and Hook's (yes, I can call him Hook in the Author's Notes because he is known as that to us) not so romantic kiss? I would like to thank the Follows, Faves, and Reviews (BTW, thanks for the congrats. I'm probably gonna miss my first week of school so there's that). It really means a lot to me. **

**This story has become a nice stress reliever. I'm going through a lot these past few weeks, and I've been struggling with sleep deprivation and panic attacks.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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